


Consequences Be Damned

by MsHermia



Series: Post-Endgame Stories [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death Fix, Civil War Team Iron Man, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt Tony Stark, I'M FIXING IT, In a way, Irondad, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Pepperony - Freeform, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Spoilers, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:52:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsHermia/pseuds/MsHermia
Summary: THIS IS A SPOILER WARNING!Do not read if you don't (want to) know how Endgame ends. Keeping tags vague for now to avoid spoilers, read Note at the beginning for more information.Life must go on, or so they say. Peter Parker needs to work through some things before he can keep on living though. He decides on a very particular way to work through his loss. Until he doesn't.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, THIS IS A SPOILER WARNING!
> 
> This story is mostly designed to make _myself_ feel better ;) But as they say, if you write a story that pleases you, chances are like minded people might enjoy it as well. ;) So even if this is an outlet that I personally use to digest my disappointment, I hope it brings some relief to whoever out there is as unhappy with Endgame as I am.

It had been 4 weeks. 4 weeks since _that_ day. The day the world, the Universe, had lost its fiercest defender. 4 weeks since he had lost his mentor, his protector. The man who had pulled him back from certain death.

It had taken some time for him to even wrap his mind around what had happened. Waking up on Titan, remembering what had been done to them. _Before_. It had felt like 10 seconds to him but it had been years in the real world. They had to collect themselves before Strange had them form ranks - well, as best as it was possible to form ranks with the Guardians. And then Strange had to group together and coordinate every other hero Earth had to offer.

The fight was over so fast, so much happened in such a short time and he went through so many emotions in the blink of an eye. Hope. Excitement. Fear. Exhaustion. Shock and grief. The same kind of grief he felt now, sitting on the cold floor with his back leaning against the wall of a dark room somewhere in the basement of the New York Sanctum. The grief hadn't left him. He was pretty certain that it never would. Not like it did with his parents or uncle Ben. That had been different. He wasn't in control then. He had had no powers.

Not this time though. This time he had simply failed. He hadn't been strong enough, not fast enough, not clever enough. It was a realization that had come slowly seeping through his every pore as the initial shock had worn off. There were phases to all this, he knew that. Survivor's guilt and the feeling of not having done everything, he could have done. Those had come to him slowly and gradually, a different phase had hit him less than a day ago without any warning and all at once. Rage. Rage and the yearning for retaliation. And while the grief had stayed with him through all these weeks, it was rage that was his driving force now.

He would be lying if he were to pretend that punching Merlin, the Wizard Supreme, in the face repeatedly hadn't been fueled by exactly that rage. And he wouldn't even pretend that making the Doctor's face bleed hadn't left him feeling better than he had in weeks. Stuck in one of the rooms of the Sanctum's basement he'd been looking around, nothing to do he pondered how much money they could make with this much empty space in such a prime NYC location. They'd only have to upgrade a few of the rooms. This was New York City, it didn't have to be a temple of luxury to make a ton of money. Or at least enough not to worry about buying the odd deli. Mr. Stark would have turned this place into a goldmine. He'd always known how to get the best...

Peter stopped himself, burying his face in his hands. He wasn't going there. He was in the rage phase. There was no room for what his dead mentor would do in the rage phase. Peter knew perfectly well what Mr. Stark would think of his actions here today. And he would savor that thought when he was back in his own bed, drowning in self-pity and tears.

Now was the time to hand out some karma and his rage was only boosted by his own frustration. It was embarrassing how long it had taken him to figure out who exactly was to blame for Mr. Stark's death. (Well, except for Thanos, but he could hardly make the purple asshat pay unless you'd count stomping on the big pile of dust, which Peter didn't.) Peter would have to settle for the smaller fish, as it was only right to do for the apprentice. How he could have been this blind for weeks enraged him even more. And judging by how restrained the wizard had been when he had been fighting Peter off earlier, he was certain that he'd land one or two additional punches before the day was done.

When Strange had first locked him in that room, he tried to feel out the place. But it became apparent to him very quickly that the wizard's magic tricks were interfering with his Spidey-Senses. That's why it took him by surprise when he felt movement down the hallway where he was kept. It was clear to him that someone was heading towards him. He stretched out his fingers in an attempt to shake off the strain they had suffered from the Doctor's cheekbones. He knew he would have to be fast if he wanted to strike again before the wizard was able to incapacitate him.

He jumped as soon as he felt the door open and had to scramble to stop himself in his tracks. His mouth fell open as he retreated a couple of steps.

"Miss... Miss Potts..." he gulped, his mind blank for a moment before his eyes settled on the tall wizard standing in the frame of the door. He pursed his lips, annoyance creeping up in him. "Are you hiding behind Pepper now, Merlin?"

"Peter!" Her voice was echoing through the room, making him physically shrink back. Too familiar to May did the reproach and shock in her voice ring in his ears. "What in the world do you think you're doing?"

He looked up, his eyes landing on Strange again. The wizard's face was an inexhaustible source of energy to him, fueling Peter's resentment. The longer he looked at the man the hotter he could feel the rage burn inside him. The Doctor had only carelessly wiped some of the blood off his face. Peter could still make out the lacerations he had left above his left eye and the bruises on his cheekbones and chin were already turning blue. He wasn't sure if Merlin just hadn't bothered to make himself presentable or if it was an attempt to bargain for Miss Potts' sympathies and use her against Peter. But it wouldn't matter. His wounds were sweet, sweet satisfaction in Peter's book. He anchored that feeling in his very soul before turning his gaze on her.

"Miss Potts... Pepper. You don't understand." He pointed at the wizard, keeping his eyes firmly on her. "He knew. He knew what would happen to Mr. Stark and he just... he just let it happen!" He didn't really recognize his voice with all the rage and thirst for vengeance co-vibrating in his body.

"I... I know that, kid." Her voice couldn't be more different in contrast. Soft and warm, trying to soothe him.

He gaped at her. "But then... you know, that he could have stopped it!"

She tilted her head, sighing with so much sympathy he could hardly stand her eyes on his face. "Pete, what are you doing?" Her words were whispered softly, as if only for him to hear.

"Pepper, I saw him! I saw him egg on Mr. Stark. Telling him to keep going! I saw it! He could have stopped it and Mr. Stark, he could have... he could be..."

She took a step towards him and clasped his hand. "Tony knew. He knew what the consequences of his actions could be, Pete. He had prepared for that." She took a deep breath, collecting herself. "He died to protect us. All of us. It's what he always wanted, to protect us." She was squeezing his hand, tears swimming in her eyes. "It's... a noble... a very noble way to go, darling."

"It's bullshit is what it is!" He yanked his hand from hers, taking a step back, spitting his next retort in the Doctor's direction. "It's bullshit and you know it! There were other options." He turned back to Pepper, taking a step back towards her, lowering his voice in an afford to sound more reasonable, pointing at Strange. "He knows that there were other options. He knows!"

He could see Peppers brows furrow in confusion. "Honey, there was only one way. Tony knew that. Only one way to win. I know, this is-"

"One way, _he_ saw." Peter spit back, his eyes drilling holes in Strange's skull, wishing he'd be close enough to have it be his hands on him instead. "He saw one way that worked and he stopped looking! There could have been others! There were bound to be others, but the good Doctor didn't care. He told us as much!" He stepped even closer to Pepper, his eyes on her wide and pleading. "He told us he'd not even think twice before letting us die. He didn't even care. He threatened Mr. Stark and... and when we got to Titan, there was time. He could have... He had the freaking time stone hanging around his neck!" Peter pointed at him with hardly suppressed fury. "He had all the time in the world and he wouldn't even keep looking for another way! Mr. Stark didn't _have_ to die. He could be here now if it wasn't for him! With... with you and... with Morgan! And... " _With me._ Peter swallowed that part quickly. "He didn't have to _die_!"

Pepper looked at him, eyes wide she turned to Strange. "Is... is that true? There... there could have been... there were other options?"

The wizard took a step towards her, eyes filled with so much fake sympathy that it made Peter's stomach turn in disgust. "Pepper... it's not that easy. We had one clear shot. Tony understood that. We couldn't risk-"

He fell silent as Pepper gestured at him to stop, shaking her head. Her hand went to dab away the tears on her face, before turning back to Peter. "It doesn't matter."

Shock ran through his system. "It doesn't.... what do you mean it-"

"Peter!" She looked at him with determination in her eyes. "It doesn't matter. We can't change what happened. Tony is gone. He's gone. Please... please don't..." she suppressed a sob, swallowing hard. "He wouldn't want _this_. You need to let it go. Please."

Peter's face fell, he took a few steps back till the cold wall of the room was pressed into his back.

"We're all grieving, kid, but please..." She swallowed again. "This won't do. You need to stop this."

He tried to keep his chin from shaking as tears shot into his eyes. How... how could she. With all his might he tried to keep his face calm, himself from breaking. He took a deep breath as low-key as possible, which was a pointless attempt at preserving any of his dignity because both Pepper and Strange had their eyes firmly on him.

Pepper's shoulders slumped, her face radiating true sympathy as she stepped towards him.

He pressed himself closer to the wall, held out a hand, whispering a pathetic "Don't!", and turned his face away from her. The first tears fell as he felt Pepper's hand on his arm, softly pulling him close. He yanked his arms out of her reach, pushing her off. "Don't!"

She staggered back, only due to the Doctor's fast reaction did she not hit the floor. Peter froze, eyes widening with shock. _Oh my god._ He took a step towards her, before catching himself and retreating, his back pressed firmly against the wall. "I... Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry! I didn't... I didn't..." His eyes wandered from her to Strange and straight back to Pepper. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm so sorry." He slid down the wall coming to sit on the floor, burying his face in his hands. He'd have preferred to fall to pieces without them looking, without them seeing, but he'd lost all control over his body. This... this was not him. He'd stepped over a line he never thought he would ever cross.

He was flooded with enormous relief and another wave of tears when he felt her sit down next to him and hugged her arms around him.

"It's going to be alright, honey. We'll be alright."

 

***

 

It was dark. He had opened his eyes and there was only darkness. He blinked carefully, letting his eyes wander back and forth, trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. The last thing he remembered were Pepper's hands. He didn't remember much else, only the warmth of her hands. But... but she clearly wasn't here now. There seemed to be nobody but him. He closed his eyes again and focused on his hearing, trying to listen if there was any sound close by other than the shallow beat of his heart and the ragged sound of his breathing. But there was nothing. Only silence and darkness.

His eyes still closed he focused on his body. His chest ached and there was a sharp pain hammering in the back of his head. Other than that he didn't feel much. He took a deep breath, shakily exhaling a moment later. He flexed his feet, wiggling his toes. Well, he couldn't see if they were responding but it did feel like they were. Then he flexed his hands and his fingers... Okay... His right hand was feeling off. He looked down his body, trying to sit up when he hit his head hard.

He groaned. His left hand coming up, massaging the top of his head. As the pain subsided, he blinked again. There was no light. He could not even make out the outline of his hand if he held it right in front of his eyes. Either there was absolutely no light around him or he'd gone blind. Both options seemed vaguely concerning.

He started to feel the area around him. The ceiling was very, very close, as were the plushy walls to either side of him. He puffed a couple of deep breaths and thanked whoever wanted to take credit that he wasn't claustrophobic. At least not yet. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was stuck in a - _  
_

_Nope. We're not going there._

He took another deep breath patting down his chest feeling only fabric and then with his left hand he reached over to feel his arm. He tried to pinch his biceps through what he was pretty sure was a suit jacket. His arm felt solid. Almost like metal. _  
_

_Huh..._

He reached down, stretching and turning his shoulder closer to his chest and he could feel that his right hand was encased in metal. He pushed up the fabric around his right wrist and within seconds he found the security release button. The armor disengaged just as he had designed it to and he carefully twisted and turned the metal till it came free of his right hand.

He took a deep breath and swallowed hard as he felt the cold flesh from what he was pretty sure should be his right hand.

_That's probably not good._

He gave his head a fast and hard shake. There was no time to dwell on that right now. His left hand gripped the gauntlet, dragging it onto his stomach and turning it over. Balancing it on himself he tried to slip his left hand into the opening far enough to engage the emergency power. He swallowed deeply as the first attempts failed. He repositioned the glove closer to his chest, twisting his hand trying to reach the switch inside the space for his right index finger with his left ring finger instead but he kept getting it caught on something.

_What idiot would put an emergency switch this far into such a small and angled opening!_

Frustrated he pulled his hand away from the glove, rubbing it across his face when something scratched the bridge of his nose. Confused he brought his hand to his lips trying to feel his way around the base of his fingers when he froze.

There was something on his ring finger. He stuck out his tongue, licking it.

_Yup, definitely a metal ring! Why would I..._

His eyes widened in shock as a bunch of memories started to work their way from the back of his mind into his consciousness. Pepper... Pepper and him, they got married. He gasped for air as the face of his little girl was pulled up in front of his inner eye. Shaking he tried to get a hold of the ring with his mouth. It slid off easier than he would have expected.

Keeping the ring securely between his teeth he twisted his hand once more, reaching for the switch deep inside the glove and as the repulsor's light flared up he had to close his eyes to protect himself from the bright light. He took a couple more deep breaths before slowly blinking against the glare. Finally adjusted to the light he looked around himself, trying his best to keep his pulse down. His first instinct had been spot on. As he studied the silk plush on either side of him as well as the white fabric lining just above his head, he was quite certain that he was lying in a casket.

 

***

 

It had taken Peter two weeks before he felt remotely comfortable to even think of the possibility to face Pepper again. And then another two before he dared to go near the property. He still had a horribly bad conscience though it hadn't even been him who had dragged her in the middle of this. No doubt, Strange didn't feel any of the guilt that Peter carried though the wizard had done way worse. Things would have to get settled between him and Merlin.

He was sat on the grass in front of Mr. Stark's grave. He felt foolish at first. There were only bones here. But this wasn't about finding a physical presence of Mr. Stark. It was about being close to where he had lived all this time that Peter had been gone, where he had walked and talked and just been. It made Peter feel like he was close to him. Well, all the peace and quiet also helped. He'd been coming here at least once a week, usually 2 or 3 times after a successful patrol, telling him about his day, how the crime-fighting was going.

Lately, he'd been wanting to tinker on the suits. Both of them had suffered a bit in those big battles and probably should be somewhat adjusted. He had been going through some of the problems he's noticed with Mr. Stark. Well, he told him about it. Or rather his headstone. Nothing major, nothing he couldn't find a workaround for. At some point, he might consider actually fixing things but he was doing alright with it for now and it just felt wrong to change anything without Mr. Stark having an eye on what he was doing. He usually went out with his regular suit anyway, not the IronSpider. It felt more appropriate for the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

That was what he had become now. All he was. He didn't need to be an Avenger. He didn't want that anymore. None of them even knew about what Mr. Stark did when they...

Peter hit his temple hard with his hand, trying to get away from the thought. He had a strict policy when he was visiting Mr. Stark's grave. There was no room here for all that shit. He just wanted to feel close to him. The site was remote enough that he could slip in and out without running into Pepper. He knew that Pepper preferred the spot on the deck at the lake where the memorial service was held to Mr. Stark's actual burial site anyway. He also knew that she knew that he was still avoiding her as much as he could.

Rhodey had told him that she asked for him and that Rhodey was supposed to tell him, how she missed him and that everything was fine, she wasn't angry and she didn't want him to think that she was. It was a game of telephone that he didn't particularly enjoy, but it was handy to hide his true struggles. Yes, he was still embarrassed that he had forgotten his strength and pushed her so hard. He had been emotional and overwhelmed. He had been disappointed and hurt, but that was no excuse. With his powers came a responsibility that tolerated no mistakes. None like that anyway.

What he couldn't get over was how she had sided with the wizard though. How she had told him to let it go. Let Mr. Stark go and...

"Nope. We're not going there."

He exhaled deeply, fixing his gaze on Mr. Stark's headstone. Quietly letting his thoughts go, keeping his mind blank. For a minute he just sat there and listened to his own heartbeat, trying to remember how it had felt like to be in the man's presence. Thinking of his mentor. His friend.

"I miss you, Mr. Stark. I fucking hate this."


	2. One Shot

As freak-outs went, his initial reaction was certainly to be expected. Sure, going on a panicked downward spiral in a tiny box, most likely a few feet underground, was not ideal. But he'd been in tighter spots. He reminded himself that he had made it out of those as well. Well, most of them. All but one. Apparently. Which seemed to have gotten him into this particular dire situation. A situation he didn't quite remember getting himself into.

The only thing that kept him from slipping into a full blown panic attack was the gauntlet in his hand. He felt immediate and immense gratitude for whoever had had this heavily symbolic idea to bury him with a part of his suit. He always had liked that idea, secretly. He'd never have outright mentioned it to Pepper. She knew him well but however much she had supported him, however much she had accepted Iron Man as a defining part of him, the knowledge that Iron Man would likely take him away from her one day was too much to bear. Too much for her to want to honor his Iron Man legacy in this kind of a way.

But the thought of her calmed his pulse and he turned his gaze away from the walls enclosing him, keeping him trapped underneath the earth. He'd have to blast his way out of there. One blast, straight up. He only had one shot at this. If the earth caved in around the path he'd clear for himself, he was doomed to suffocate on black dirt.

He patted the area around himself, moving his legs to check that area of the box, hoping to find something else that could be helpful. A face mask would really come in handy for breathing in case he screwed it up, but it seemed like they had limited his resources to the armored arm. And his arm was a problem all on its own. He had reached underneath the tailored suit jacket he was wearing to try and dislodge the upper part of the armor from inside there, but he couldn't see a way how he would have enough room to maneuver an unresponsive - _Yes, we're calling it that. That sounds a lot more comforting than dead_. - an unresponsive arm out of the sleeve jacket. The sleeve was cut too tight for him to push it all the way up over his armored arm.

_Damn me and my heightened fashion sense._

He took a deep breath. Without the housing unit, he couldn't control the nanites. He needed an alternate plan and there was a simple solution to his predicament. He turned the gauntlet around on his chest, the opening now facing toward his right arm, and used the titanium connectors on the edge to rip open the fabric on the sleeve and the shirt underneath it. He was careful to only use the metal on the part of his arm that was still covered by the armor. He had little control over the force he used and didn't want to injure his arm any more than it already was. After creating a sufficient tear, he used his left hand to rip the seam all the way up to his shoulder and then down to his wrist. Finding the armor's release was a piece of cake now and he carefully pulled his right arm onto his chest. If his other hand had been functional he might have used a piece of the metal to shield his face, but as is was, the pieces were useless to him so he moved them out of the way, shoving them in the direction of his feet.

His underground cage still illuminated by the glove, he caught a glimpse of a couple of envelopes that had been tucked between his arm and the casket wall. He averted his eyes as soon as he realized what they were, taking a deep breath to calm himself. This was not the time. He couldn't even look at those without his pulse racing. Words his loved ones had left him after his apparent death. This wasn't the time to get lost in his emotions. He needed all the brain power he could muster to concentrate on getting himself out of this pickle. Quickly he reached for them, shoving them into his suit jacket's inside pocket. This wasn't the time.

He took another breath. Maybe... maybe this was the time. Maybe he was about to blast himself from one early grave into the next. His hand rested on top of the jacket feeling the small bulge of the letters. Then he pulled it back as if he had just gotten burned. No. He would fight his way out of there. For _them_. He had to try and he needed his mind clear and focused, not distracted by emotional fogginess. The letters were a nice sentiment but they were inconsequential. He already knew how his family felt about him. That they loved him and that they would miss him. He didn't need a letter to tell him that.

There wasn't much of a choice he had to make. He had one real option. He moved his useless arm back to his side, slid his left hand back into the glove as far as he could manage and awkwardly twisted his arm so it was lying palm facing up on his chest. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the right away from his hand as he activated the gauntlet.

He kept his eyes closed and his head turned away holding his breath as dust and dirt came fluttering down on him. For a moment everything was quiet. He took a deep breath and when it seemed like he wasn't going to be buried alive by a collapsing slip of earth he pulled his hand out of the gauntlet, wiping the dirt from his face before he opened up his eyes, peering upwards. It only took him moments to realize that he was looking at the night sky above. So there had been enough power in the device to reach the surface which was the first little victory. More sobering was the realization that all of this didn't change much about his current situation. The hole was too small for him to fit and even if the walls of his little tunnel were to hold, his right arm would make it impossible for him to climb up there.

Maybe someone had actually noticed the blast. For a few moments, he was just lying there, listening if he could hear someone approach. He swallowed deep trying to keep calm, but he couldn't make out any movement above. He tried to call out for help, but his vocal cords didn't comply. Carefully he cleared his throat, but he only managed to quietly croak something that didn't sound anything like "Help." Proper panic was, at last, starting to rise deep inside him when another bit of dirt came flying down from above. He wiped his hand over his face again pushing black earth off himself when he noticed a silhouette against the night sky.

The soft "Hello?" that reached him all the way down in the ground made him want to cry with joy. He groaned in relief, trying to call out the kid's name, but his voice wouldn't come. He could see the silhouette retreat. In a panic he started to kick his feet against the top of the box, trying to make some noise. To make him come back.

A beam of light blinded him momentarily and he turned his head away from the glare, eyes closed. He waved his hand hoping that the boy would see him move and realize that.. well, whatever this was. He was still banging his feet against the top of the box as hard as he could. Just as sudden, the light was gone but he could hear a commotion coming from above, more than one voice, arguing. A moment later he was engulfed in orange sparkles and then it felt like the ground was giving way underneath him. Like waking up from a dream, the box with him still inside fell about a foot crashing into solid ground.

"Be careful, you idiot!"

"Stop! Wait!"

"Take your damn hands off me!"

Tony was still lying flat on his back, his breathing erratic, eyes wide as the lid above him was yanked open, actually torn from its hinges, and then he was looking straight into the face of his boy.

"Mr... Mr. Stark?" His voice was so soft, almost inaudible and Tony could feel tears slipping from his own eyes. He nodded as distinctly as he could manage frozen in shock on his back like that.

"Peter! Wait! Don't!" The kid was pulled out of Tony's field of vision.

"Let go of me!"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"What does it look like, Merlin? I'm helping him!"

Tony's heart left like it was going to jump out of his chest, his pulse racing, but he felt rigid. He closed his eyes just for a moment, desperately trying to calm himself, trying to grasp what was happening with him.

"Just... just wait a moment. We don't know-"

"I don't care what _you_ know! He needs help and you're not even supposed to be here, so take your hands off me!"

"Peter, wait. There was a flare of cosmic energy and... what... what were _you_  doing here?"

"I'm here all the time. Now, get off!"

Tony could hear a ruffle and his eyes flew open.

"Mr. Stark!" The boy's voice was a lot steadier now, one of his hands reaching down to Tony. As Peter's hand touched his chest, feeling for his heartbeat, Tony jerked involuntarily at the contact. Quickly the boy's eyes widened even further and he pulled his hand back.

"Pete!" Tony croaked, still flustered by what was happening.

The kid's face broke into a smile. "Yes. Yes! Oh my god, Mr. Stark. What... Oh my god!" He reached for Tony once more, his hand first touching his face then reaching for his left arm, grabbing hold of him as if to anchor Tony. "Can you... can you sit up?"

Tony thought his heart might just jump out of his chest, mirroring the boy's wide smile he tried to shrug. "Don' 'ow."

"Peter, stop!"

Tony's glance shifted from the kid to the person behind him. As his brain made the connection and recognized Doctor Strange, his face went slack and like it had done before when he was still trapped underground his mind flooded his consciousness with memories. Thanos. Time travel. Infinity Stones. Death. _His_ death. He gasped for air and his hand rushed up grabbing his own throat. He couldn't breathe.

"What... what did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?" He could feel the kid's hands on him, trying to cling to him.

"No-nothing. I didn't do anything!"

Tony was ringing for air, panic was screaming from his every pore.

"Mr. Stark! You need to breathe. You need to breathe." The kid's voice was thick with tears. "Oh my god, what's happening? What did you _do_?"

"Tony? Tony, can you hear me?"

He tried to focus on the kid when he saw him being shoved out of the way by Strange.

"What are you doing? Don-"

Then warmth and darkness swallowed him.

 

*

 

When he started to come back around the light touching his face was the first thing he noticed. Everything around him felt a lot warmer and brighter than before. He wanted to shield himself against the light but only one of his arms seemed to respond.

_That's right..._

"Mr. Stark?"

He opened his eyes with a start, immediately squinting against the light.

"Hi..." The kid tentatively smiled at him. It took Tony a second to remember. He'd lost the kid, but now here he was.

"Pete!" He croaked, reaching out towards the boy. He was sitting close to the bed Tony found himself in. The kid reacted at once, moving closer to Tony and clasping his hand.

"It's okay. You're alright!"

Tony held on to him as tightly as he could. Looking around the room he pressed out a low "Where?" He realized that his arm was now in a sling resting on his abdomen.

"We're in the Sanctum. Merl- Doctor Strange brought you here when you... you seemed to be having a bit of a panic attack."

"Where's... Doc?"

At that, the kid's face did a thing. He pursed his lips and his face turned cold. It was such an unusual expression to see on the boy, it took Tony completely by surprise.

"He's... he's getting Dr. Banner. He said you're in need of medical attention and he wants Dr. Banner to be here."

"Pete..." Tony furrowed his brow. He cleared his throat, suppressing the urge to rub his throat so he wouldn't have to let go of the kid. "You and Doc? What..."

"I'm not a fan."

Tony shook his head a little in confusion, not sure what was going on with the kid. "Why?"

"Why? Are you ser-" Peter shock his head waving him off. "Okay, no. We'll not talk about Merlin, not right _now_! How are you?" He stepped closer, grasping a tighter hold of Tony's arm with his other hand as if to keep him from vanishing into thin air. "Does... does anything hurt? What can I do? Are you... are you okay?" His voice fast and thick with emotion.

Tony stared at him, recognizing how much Peter was trying to pull himself together in the face of... all this.

"I'm sorry." The boy shook his head, lowering his eyes. "That was such a dumb question. Of course, you're not okay. You were... well. And then you just..." He shook his head again, eyes back on Tony. "What can I do, Mr. Stark? What do you need?"

Tony swallowed hard and started to pull himself up using Peter's hold of his arm, trying to sit up.

"C'me 'ere!"

The small nudge was all the boy had needed. With a jolt, Tony got pulled all the way up and Peter simply threw himself at him. Arms swung around his neck and torso the kid buried his face in the fabric of Tony's suit jacket, shaking with silent sobs. Tony closed his eyes, tears making them burn. His left arm held the boy as close to his chest as he could. It didn't matter that his other arm was uncomfortably pressed into his stomach. All that mattered was holding the kid. Gratitude was overwhelming him. He couldn't find the words to tell Peter how truly happy he was to see him. There was one thing he needed to get out before everything else. He tried to concentrate, to speak clearly, but he was physically shaking with emotion. "Died on me, kid..." He gasped for air, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "No more!"

Peter laughed through his sobs. "You... you too, Mr. Stark. No more dying!" His hands clutched the fabric of Tony's jacket even tighter. "I missed you. I missed you so much. Don't... don't _ever_... do that again!" The boy's voice was almost inaudible through heavy tears and his face still pressed against Tony's chest.

Tony nodded into the boy's hair not even bothering to wipe away his own tears or pretend like he was anything but an emotional wreck. He clung to the kid just as much as Peter clung to him.

They might have stayed like that for the rest of the day if Peter hadn't jumped out of Tony's embrace just as orange sparkles appeared in the middle of the room. Moments later Strange and Bruce stepped through the portal. Tony tried to balance himself on the bed while wiping the tears off his face. He saw Peter shift to stand between him and the two man, only roughly running his own hand over his face. For a moment Tony was confused, frowning at the boy's back in surprise but when he took in the guarded expression of green Bruce, lips a thin line, eyes determined and staring straight at Tony, he understood what was going through Peter's mind.

He coughed, clearing his throat before he took a deep breath, raising his eyebrows, desperate to de-escalate this situation. "Hey, Buddy. Stick'n with..." He took a deep breath trying to put more strength into his voice "...the hipst'r look?"

Bruce's expression remained unchanged, but he turned his gaze over to the boy.

"Peter-"

"Don't even think of asking me to leave." Tony could see the boy's hands were balled into fists, his voice basically a growl. The tremor in his body was unmistakable.

Bruce's eyes flickered from Peter back to Tony for a short moment before turning back to the boy. "Let's just stay calm and try to figure out what happened here."

"I am calm!" Peter snarled.

Strange sighed, staying conspicuously far away from Peter. "Tony, we need to check how your body is responding to... to this night's events. I'm sure you'd appreciate a bit of privacy for-"

"Shut up, Merlin!" Tony's eyes widened at the hostility Peter was demonstrating. The boy's focus was still fixed on Bruce. "I don't know what he told you, but his track record concerning Mr. Stark's _health_ is abysmal. I don't even trust him to be in the same room with Mr. Stark and neither should you, Dr. Banner!"

Tony's eyes widened in surprise. "Pete!" But the boy kept his back to him, his eyes still firmly on Bruce.

"He told me that you don't trust him, which is why I'm here."

Peter shifted his weight from one side to the other, still standing his ground. "I'm not leaving."

Confused Tony's eyes landed on Strange. His interactions with the Doctor were limited to a couple of testy arguments and a couple of Universe-defining battles, where they had fought alongside each other. A cold shiver went through him and he forced the thought of Thanos from his mind. Now was not the time to slip into another panic attack.

His eyes wandered back over to Bruce. With a minute shrug of his shoulder, he tried to convey his confusion, but Bruce didn't react, eyes still very cold and Hulk-ish. Tony sighed, biting his lip. He couldn't really blame him. He'd just woken up in his own coffin. With everything they had seen and done over the years, this was still by far the weirdest fucked up shit to date. Well, time travel was pretty up there as well.

Bruce was right to be wary. Of course, he was. They all should be. He felt like himself but there was no telling what was going on here. What had happened. Who. And why...

He needed answers.

"Pete." Tony tried to lean forward to reach for the boy without losing his balance. "Look 't me."

Slowly he turned around but rushing to him right away when he saw Tony sway. He firmly clasped Tony's hand with one hand, the other one on his upper arm, steadying him. "Mr. Stark. Are you okay?"

"I need Pep. Go... go get m' wife. Please."

Peter shook his head. "I'm not leaving."

"Please." He squeezed the boy's hand. "Wizard c'n take you." He fixed him with his eyes, nodding encouragingly, before casting a glance over to Strange. He narrowed his eyes on the man. "Strange. W'll you take h'm? Get m' girl?"

The Doctor turned to Bruce. "I'll go with the boy. Stark's arm... It must be from the stones. The gamma radiation is bound to have left damage. We might not be able to do anything. When I moved him to the Sanctum there seemed to be minimal response in the tissue of the upper arm. It might be spreading, either way, I'm not sure."

"I'll check it out." Bruce had his eyes still firmly on Tony, studying him from the distance.

Tony squeezed Peter's hand. "Not Morgan." He turned his eyes on Peter. "Don't know wh't's goin' on h're."

Peter frowned, shaking his head. "You're back. It's a good thing, Mr. Stark. An amazing-"

"We don... don't know that." He looked over at Strange. "I wan'  Morgan save."

Strange nodded. "We'll get Morgan somewhere save before returning with your wife."

"Thanks, Doc'!" Tony squeezed Peter's hand again before letting go, reaching behind himself to settle back into the bed. Quickly the boy came to his aid, helping him lie down. He hesitated for a moment, before stepping back from the bed, walking up to Strange.

"Let's go, Merlin!"

As both the wizard and the kid disappeared into the portal leading to the driveway of the house Tony had built for his family, Bruce stepped closer to him.

"That kid... seems li'le diff'rent." Tony arched his brows at him. "What happ'n'd?"

"You died." Bruce pushed his glasses in position on his nose. "He had to fight for his life and then you died is what happened."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the great feedback! 
> 
> I'm still annoyed as hell, especially because writing this story I'm running into all these inconsistencies that riddle Endgame.
> 
> I do hope, you'll be enjoying where this is going anyway. <3


	3. Wake Up Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm sorry guys. This was quite a bit of a wait. I got sidetracked with a different fix-it (the easy, obvious time-travel multiverse one...).  
> I'm still absolutely committed to continue and finish this one though!  
> I still have a couple of chapters left on the other story (one finished, one half written), but I wanted to give you something on this one now.

_"You died. He had to fight for his life and then you died is what happened."_

Dead silence filled the room. What was he even supposed to say to that? Tony tried to keep his breathing under control. It's not like he had wanted to die. He had a wife and a child - two kids if he was being honest with himself - a family he had wanted a life with. A family he had wanted to keep save. They were what was most important in this whole damn universe and there had only been one way to keep them safe. Strange had been _clear_ that it was the only way. How could not?  

Bruce had stepped next to Tony and unpacked a few medical devices. He kept his distance, eyes still cold and watchful.

"Can you manage those shirt buttons or should I..."

Tony tore his mind back to reality and looked down to his chest. He nodded quickly. "I... I can..."

His left hand fiddled with his tie, loosened the knot and carefully pull it off. His hands were still shaking. It wasn't just nerves. Yes, he was desperate to find out what had happened to him. He had woken up in his own fucking coffin. That alone surely could explain his tremors, but there was more to it. It wasn't just the shock. There was a fatigue in his very bones that made it excruciatingly difficult to breathe, to move, let alone to think. The first wave of happiness from seeing the kid had slowly ebbed away. He felt it all now. Bruce watched him and with the professor's eyes on him, Tony struggle to open up the buttons on his chest. It shouldn't be this difficult. How many shirts had he buttoned and unbuttoned over the year? A simple task like that and he had to thoroughly concentrate on his hands so he could slowly but eventually, he get there. Only the button on the shirt's collar was left. The longer he tried and the more often the button would slip through his fingers, the stronger the tremor of his hand became. He dropped his hands. Nope, turned out he couldn't even unbutton his shirt completely, He looked up at Bruce and just gave his head a small shake.

"Can't. Just... just rip 't." He tilted his head back to give Bruce better access to his neck. He waited but the green professor just stood there next to him, eyes on Tony's neck.

"It's fine. This will do." After another moment of hesitation, Bruce reached underneath the fabric. He put a few sensors on Tony's chest, then on the pulse point of his neck and his temples. A small monitor in Bruce's hand beeped a few times, confirmed the connection to the sensors and then blared out Tony's fast erratic heartbeat.

Tony stayed quiet while Bruce was at work. His right arm was still laying on his stomach. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over it again and again. It was mostly obstructed by the torn suit jacket and the sling. He took a deep breath and a cold wave of goosebumps spread through his body. He had no idea what to expect from anything Bruce was testing out. How was he even alive? Surely... surely they hadn't buried him alive? No, by the look of the kid it had to have been... longer. Longer than anyone could survive in a box in the ground. He swallowed hard, eyes back on Bruce. The professor softly nodded to himself, eyes on the monitor. He clicked around on it a bit, made some notes. Tony took another deep breath and cast his eyes up to the ceiling. He'd just have to let Bruce do his thing.

"Alright... Can you pull up your right leg?" Tony complied, flexed his leg, pulled his knee up, his foot now placed on the bed. Bruce asked him to move in other ways, determining his range of mobility, inquiring for pain or discomfort, before he finally settled on Tony's right arm.

Tony's heart started to flutter. He bit the inside of his lower lip so he wouldn't curse as Bruce's monitor broadcast his fast pulse. The fast pulsing sound echoed off the walls. The professor shot a quick glance at him before he carefully pulled off the sling from Tony's neck. His arm was now free. Not that this was of any benefit to him. Bruce slowly lifted and prodded at the arm, but Tony couldn't feel his touch. There was a dull pull around his right collarbone, nothing more. Even the cold steel of Bruce's stethoscope that should have had him flinch as Bruce listened for a blood flow and checked his reflexes didn't register. Tony's eyes had only briefly flickered to his own arm. Bruce had pulled back the ripped fabric from his jacket and shirt. Tony had had his share of injuries. Being a superhero, that was a given. Nothing like this though. His arm looked positively dead. He couldn't stand the look of it.

The beeping sound of the monitor grew stronger and faster. His breath got caught in his throat. He pressed his eyes firmly shut, but there was a wave of anxiety rushing through him that he couldn't control. He just couldn't. How was he supposed to come back from this? How... how was there any recovery from this?

His eyes shot open when he felt a firm squeeze on his right shoulder. His glance flickered over to the green hand and then up to Bruce's face.

"You do feel that? That's good."

Yes... yes, he could feel that. He could. Tony's gasped for air, the moisture in his eyes made them burn. Bruce squeezed his shoulder again.

"Deep breaths, Tony."

He quickly nodded and closed his eyes.

"Your vitals look mostly fine. If we factor out the peaks that are to expected in this situation... well. You seem healthy enough." He paused. "Minus the arm that is. I... I don't think..." He cleared his throat. "We'll have to do some more tests."

Tony took in a sharp breath. Bruce was trying to be nice, but it was more than obvious that matters with his arm were serious. If the point that Tony couldn't move or feel it hadn't given it away, the corpse-like look of his flesh was convincing enough. He glanced over at the professor. His movements seemed smooth and painless, no lasting effects from his... his contact with the Stones.

"How... how long?" He hadn't talked at all while Bruce had been examining him, evident by the croak in his voice.

Bruce looked up at him, eyebrows knitted together. "How long?"

Tony throat was dry. It hurt to swallow but he tried anyway and then concentrated on the words. "How long... since... since..." He coughed and stopped.

"Since... the battle?"

Tony exhaled deeply and nodded, thankful that Bruce had not mentioned the name.

"Almost 7 months."

Tony coughed again, his heart jumped in his chest. "Wha-"

"Calm down, Tony. Deep breaths." Bruce's hand rested on his shoulder not so much holding him down on the bed but holding onto him.

"Do you remember what happened? At the battle, I mean, with..."

Tony's eyes shot up at him and Bruce stopped talking. He was already losing it. Please, let him not say his name. He pressed his eyes shut and gave his head a short but powerful shake. Images were flooding his mind that he couldn't deal with. He'd need time. It was too soon.

"At the battle. Do you remember what happened that day?"

Tony's chest deflated. He blinked slowly before nodding in the professor's direction.

"Alright. That's... that's good I think. Memory intact. That's good. Anything after?"

Tony's eyes shot up. "No." He pressed out forcefully, relieved when his voice held under the strain.

Bruce's hand was still on his right shoulder. "What happened to you, Tony?"

He frowned and made an effort to shrug with his left. How the fuck was he supposed to know what happened? He'd been in a box underground. Dead.

"Jus'... wok' up."

Bruce huffed and grimaced. "No theory? Tony Stark usually has a theory for everything, no? Weird shit is your specialty."

He looked up at the big green guy, his mouth slightly opened, air rushing in and out, brow creased. He took a moment. A moment to think. So far his mind had been occupied with banishing unwanted memories and just trying to cope with what was happening with him. The... the purple dude was the one they had been fighting. The one Tony had prepared for. For years. Sure, there were harbingers of that battle. Loki, who was dead. Or so Thor had said. Ultron. The mind stone that Loki had brought to Earth. Years after Sokovia, Tony was sure now that the Stone didn't end up in their hands by chance. It had been planted. Waiting to break free. Waiting to take over something that would destroy humanity. And it had been a close call. There was the odd Earthly villain Tony had fought. He'd defeated all of them. Bringing the dead back to life... Bringing a dead Tony Stark back to life didn't really seem like something an ordinary human villain would be capable of. 

Tony cleared his throat. "The... the s'ones." He cleared it again. "The Stones... did... did you-"

Bruce withdrew his hand from him and stood up straight. "We returned them to their timelines."

Tony frowned. "But..?"

"No but. We... There was a mission and they are back where they belong."

Tony nodded before he cast his eyes back up to Bruce. "Did yo'... Nat... coul' you..."

Bruce shook his head slowly.

",m sorry."

"It was a long shot." Bruce rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head again. "The Stones are still gone. Nobody could have used them to get you back."

The door opened and the kid stuck his head back inside. Tony couldn't help but draw in a deep breath as his heart leaped. And as his heart rate picked up, Bruce's monitor sent out loud beeping sounds that echoed through the room.

"Bruce, coul' you..." He motioned at the monitor in the professor's hand.

"Oh, yeah... yeah, sure..." He quickly tapped around on the screen a few times and muted the sound that broadcasted Tony's heartbeat. 

Peter had closed the door and quickly came up to Tony's bed, grasped for his hand.

"You okay?"

Tony nodded, his lips drawn into a smile. "You... you go' her?"

"She's outside." He looked over to Bruce. "We... we haven't told her yet. It's... it's not really believable, is it... unless..." His eyes found Tony's again. "Unless you see it for yourself."

Tony squeezed his hand. "Pep hates sur—surpris's."

"Well..." Peter shrugged. "She loves you. She's missed you. Don't make her faint!"

Tony chuckled while he ran his thumb over the back of Peter's hand.

His cheeks strained a bit from the wide smile his mouth had pulled into. Pepper was just outside the door. His wife. His love. He needed to see her now. No more waiting. Almost 7 months. Fuck. He'd left her on her own for 7 months. His heart expanded with a painful beat as he imagined for only a second that it had been her. That she had been dead for 7 months and he had been left behind. His breath hitched and he tried to calm himself. Peter mumbled some words that didn't really reach Tony's brain. But the strong hold the kid had on his hand anchored him. Brought him back.

He... he needed to sit up. He couldn't face her lying on his back like he was still dead. His head turned to look at the headboard of the bed while his feet struggled to push himself against it. He could just... just slide over the pillow into a sitting position.

"Mr. Stark, what... what are you doing?" Peter's voice was fast and high-pitched. He pulled on Tony's arm in an attempt to keep him still.

"Jus' wanna... needa sit up." He was still glancing towards the headboard and he tried to angle his back in a way that would let him push himself up.

"Wait... wait, I'll..." Peter stepped closer.

"Is fine..." Tony insisted, but Peter's other hand came to rest under his elbow and provided just enough of a push to assist Tony while he still held firmly onto his hand. Tony slid up the bed as his feet scrambled on top of the sheets and came to rest with his back against the headboard.

"Hold on... Your arm..." Bruce stepped closer. Like a dead weight, his arm had slipped from his abdomen and came to rest next to him on the bed. Before Bruce could step up close enough, Peter had already leaned forward to grab the arm-sling. The boy's face was stoic and white as he reached for Tony's unresponsive arm. He couldn't feel Peter's shaking fingers on his skin. The tremble in his arm as he placed the dead-like limb back into the sling and maneuvered it to rest in Tony's lap was unmistakable though. Peter's mouth moved with small twitching motions, probably biting the insides of his cheeks. He didn't look into Tony's face, only pulled up the ends of the sling and fastened them around Tony's neck.

Tony reached for the boy's hand again. "Than's Pete." He tried a reassuring smile. Peter squeezed back and pressed out a smile that didn't really reach his eye.

"You alright, Mr. Stark?"

"Fine, Pete. Go... Go an' bring... bring 'er in!" "

The hand that Peter had firmly squeezed with both of his now fumbled for the edge of the mattress. He held on in a tight grip to anchored himself on the bed. The kid had opened the door just enough to look out into the hallway. He called for Pepper and then there were footsteps that came closer.

"Peter, what's going on?" Her voice echoed only faintly into the room. It was her alright. Tony would recognize that voice anywhere. No other voice had been as much of a constant in his life as Pepper Potts'. A shiver ran through him and his lips spread out into a wide smile again. Mrs. Pepper Stark.

His eyes stared at the kid's back, who still held the door fairly closed. "I... listen, I really need you to not freak out, this is gonna be-"

She groaned. It was a muffled sound as she had probably burrowed her face in her hands. "Oh god, Peter... what did you _do_?"

Tony couldn't help but smile even wider. It was just so Pepper... The same phrase could have just as easily been aimed at him. Or Morgan. His eyes shot over to Banner for a moment. The professor was somber and composed. Right. Right... Tony swallowed his smile and looked back towards the door. They still didn't know what this was. What had even happened. And also if it... if he was going to, well, last in this world. So many uncertainties, but Pepper... He took a deep breath. Pepper was right there.

"I didn't even do... It's not... Listen..." The kid straightened his back, his left arm still clung to the door for support, the other was hanging by his side, his hand balled into a fist. "This is gonna be a shock, Pepper.  There's no easy way to do this, so.... so just... just don't freak out."

"Pete, I-"

"Just... just let me tell you."

He could have just called out for her. Called her to his side. It wasn't fair that the kid had to deliver this news. What... what were they even thinking? Peter shouldn't be put in that situation. It should be Tony, nobody else! His pulse shot up and he closed his eyes. He needed to calm down. He couldn't trust his voice as it was. If he would hyperventilate on top of that... It didn't really matter. It shouldn't be the kid, but Tony couldn't really get out a single smooth sentence in a low voice, let alone if he were to call out into the hallway. His eyes still on the kid, he took deep breaths. As deep as possible. Needed to help his body to stay calm.

"I... I've been visiting Tony's grave for... for a few months now. I... I know, I should have come to see you, I'm sorry, it just never... I couldn't really-"

"It's alright, Pete. I understand."

Tony frowned. Peter had been avoiding Pepper, but why-

He gasped for air. There she was. She had stepped closer to him. The angle was too sharp for him to see her face but it was her hand that ran up and down Peter's arm.

"No... No, what I... Something happened." Her hand froze and then grasped his upper arm where it had come to a stop. "It just happened. I... just... just come and see."

The kid's other arm swung open the door and Tony could finally see her standing in the frame. Peter turned, his left hand clasped over Pepper's hand on his other arm. Slowly he guided her a couple of steps further into the room. Pepper's face first drawn in concern went slack. She didn't resist the pull Peter had on her and staggered a couple of steps closer with him. Her chin dropped and her eyes were only on Tony.

He hadn't even though of what to say. He hadn't even thought that he'd have to prepare words. It was Pepper for god's sake. His wife. She knew him inside and out. Every dumb decision, every fuck up, everything that was in his heart. But still, he was painfully aware that however much he had felt like nothing would ever change between them, the look on her face told a different story. Lines were edged on her face that were foreign to him. Deep purple circles under her eyes. Darker than he had ever seen on her. Every cheeky remark to break the ice, every simple line to greet her froze in his throat.

She... she was going to cry. Her face was twitching, eyes still wide and glistening. But no, he'd been wrong. Her hole body shook from a shiver. She pulled her shoulders back and breathed in deeply.

Peter's hand slowly patted the one that Pepper was still clasping his upper arm with. "Pepper, it's-"

"What is this? What..." She jerked away from him and pulled her hand back. "Oh... oh my god, what did you do? What is this?" Her eyes were wide as she stared at Tony.

"Pep..." Tony's hand shot up to rub his throat, but she wasn't even looking at him anymore.

"Peter, what were you thinking? What the hell did you _do_?" She had turned to the kid, hands in her hair, clawing at her own scalp. "How could you do this? Oh my god, Peter, how could you..."

Her voice was shrill and panicked, not at all inside of Pepper's usual range of reaction. Her distress made Tony's heart jump and strangulated his voice. Peter's reaction was similarly out of character. His big brown eyes just stared at her, his mouth was open, his arms uselessly hung by his side as Pepper backed away from him.

"Pep..." Tony's voice didn't even reach his own ears. Either the loud rush of his blood, that had filled his ears ever since Pepper's face had fallen, was currently drowning out every sound in the room or his throat simply wasn't capable of producing speech. It didn't matter. He had to calm her. He had to be there for her. He leaned over to his left. He would pull his feet off the bed and catch her in his arms. In his arm. He cringed. Fuck it. He might be a bit handicapped when it came to a strong hug, but his legs were still functional! Or at least he had no reason to assume otherwise. The longer he mulled over the shock in the room the further Pepper retreated towards the door. Strange had blocked the exit and his hands caught her before her back smashed into him. Her whole body winced and she turned to face Strange. Tony had to hurry, but before his feet even touched the ground strong green arms pulled him back. One hand shifted his legs back onto the bed while the other gently pushed his torso back against the headboard.

"You'll hurt yourself, Tony."

"I..." he coughed and struggled against the professor's hold on him. "Pepper... I need..." The rasp of his voice sounded outlandish. Weak. He had to go after her. He needed to hold her. Reassure her. He pulled his eyes down to where the professor had his hand pressed against his chest and kept him pinned against the bed. Only his hand didn't even really touch him. 5 green fingers lay fairly lax on his chest. But there was no energy in him to fight even that. He cleared his throat again to call out for her, but she didn't hear him. Her eyes were on Strange, but she didn't seem to hear the wizard's low voice asking her to calm down either. She shoved past him and just like that she disappeared from Tony's view.

"No..." he coughed, determined to go after her. Fuck his weak body. He would. For her, he would fucking run until he caught up with her.

"Bruce... I need..."

"Tony you need to calm down. Give her some space. You can't get up now. We don't even know if your legs would support you."

"Please... I... need 'er..." Without even a glance in Tony's direction, the wizard had turned and gone after her. Tony made one last effort. His hand went for Bruce's. He clasped two of his fingers and pulled as hard as he could, but the professor's hand didn't move at all.

"You don't help yourself by falling out of bed onto your face. You need to rest, Tony."

"No... need 'er... need 'er!" He tried to push his torso against Bruce to move him. Nothing. He jerked back and forth. A few droplets landed on his hand. What... His hand shot up to his face. His cheeks were wet.

"Tony, come on... we will figure it out. You need to calm down."   

But he wasn't calm. How could he be calm? He had to find her, explain... well, no, not explain but just be there. Hold her, touch her, shelter her. Needed her to reassure himself that everything was... was just okay. Or would be. Because it was them.

He had dropped any effort to free himself from Banner's grip. It was painfully obvious that there was no way that Tony would get out of that bed on his own. His body was shaking, his eyes leaked tears and he didn't know how to stop any of it. His face rested in his hand. Every now and again he wiped away the moisture from his face. That was all. He didn't know where to go from here. How to make everything alright.

Who knew how long he sat there before his conscience took in anything other than all the thoughts and all the pain that was pouring out of him. He only noticed that he had bend over, left elbow resting on his thigh, face in his hand when the rush of his pulse that dulled his hearing had finally stopped. Nobody was pressing him upright against the headboard anymore. His head shot up. In the middle of the room, Peter struggled against Bruce's attempts to console him. Shoulders hunched, tears on his face, he pushed every effort the professor made away.

"I didn't... I didn't even... _Don't_ touch me!" He took a step back from Bruce, his back against the wall on the opposite side of the room. 

"It's okay, Peter. I know. I know, this is not on you. It's ok-"

"Don't... Don't! Just... go. Just go!"

Tony pushed his own body upright and leaned back against the headboard.  "Pete... "

His voice was wrecked. He needed to fucking keep it together. He should have known that this might happen. People didn't just come back to life. It was irrational to expect anyone to just be cool with it... right? He should have never let it get this far. Peter should not have been in the middle of this. He ran his hand over his face, wiped away his tears.

While Peter didn't react, Bruce turned to face Tony. His face drawn in worry he took a step towards him, then turned again and looked at Peter, only to meet Tony's eyes again. Yeah. This was a mess. Tony dipped his head towards the door.

"Jus'... let me." His throat burned and he rubbed a hand over it as he motioning towards the door again.

With another quick look at Peter, Bruce nodded and left. As he closed the door behind him, Peter slid down and came to sit on the floor.

"He' kid..." He cleared his throat. The kid could hear him. If Bruce had noticed that Tony's attention had turned towards them, then his Spider-kid would be plenty aware. He just didn't want to show it. Face buried in both his hands, he shook. He cried and he sobbed and he avoided every glance in Tony's direction.

Tony cleared his throat again, the rasp so deep that he coughed and once he had started coughing an overwhelming irritation in his throat made him double over. Fine, he might have leaned into it a bit but once the coughing stared it felt like he wouldn't be able to stop until his lung would be propelled from his body. His hand was pressed against his chest. He heaved and gasp for air. Even as a hand landed on his back and rubbed slow circles across it, it still took him another minute to calm down enough to ask the kid for water. It took even more time 'til the glass in his hand found the way to his mouth, steadied by Peter. The cold liquid moistened his lips and went soothingly down his throat.

The glass was still pressed to his lips when the kid muttered next to him. "You did that on purpose."

Tony took another sip of the water to stop the huff he felt brewing in his chest, afraid it might trigger another fit. "A li'l bit."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think that-"

"Pete... stop."

The boy put the glass on the nightstand and then used his sleeve to wipe down his face.

"Did you... kno'... or... or do someth'n... anyth'n-"

"No." Peter held onto his own hands. His face was flushed but he didn't evade Tony's eyes. "It wasn't me. Mr. Stark, I... I wish. I'm so happy you're back. I am. I really really am."

He leaned forward, hands holding tightly onto Tony's clothes. "I missed you. I missed you so much. I'm so sorry. I don't... I don't know..."

Tony's arm came to rest against Peter's back as the boy snuggled into his side. He sobbed and muttered apologies over and over again. Tony held him as close as his strength allowed him to.

"Is alrigh', kid. Shhh... cm'on. Believe 'u. You alright. I gottu."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for sticking with it. And sorry again for the long wait.
> 
> I've been enjoying all your comment, subscriptions and kudos, THANK YOU for that!  
> I _do_ promise that the next chapters will get published a lot faster ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I don't plan on this being a *very* long story, not just because I still want to get back to finishing the story I'd been working on before Endgame (A Spiderson trope set after Ultron), but also because a dragged out storyline would defeat the purpose of getting closure.
> 
> I'm still so confused and pissed off about Endgame (Like, can someone explain to me how Thanos whole ship plus army traveled through the Quantum Realm without any Pym Particles that the Platform Past-Nebula activated would need to work? urgh.). 
> 
> but anyways, like I said, I hope you can enjoy the story and - if you were disappointed as well - that it helps you get over Endgame as it does for me :)
> 
> P.S. if you - not unlike Peter - find yourself to still be stuck in the rage phase, I also wrote a couple of one shots in the first hours after watching Endgame, letting out the first wave of shock and resentment, which was very cathardic I have to say. Check out my profile for those if you like :)


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